


Three that are free

by Illidria



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Established Relationship, Multi, NSFW in parts (chapters labelled individually, OT3, One Shot Collection, Pre-Relationship, Tags May Change, ranging from, to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-05-14 10:50:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14768189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illidria/pseuds/Illidria
Summary: Chapter 2: Tension"You think he's unsure which way he swings?"Her pale hand had wandered under his kameez, though she behaved herself, did only go so far with the masses of people moving below, dancing to the thundering rhythm of the ishvalan spring festival."I don't think he ever thought about it at all."A collection of One-Shots about this OT3





	1. Potato

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InkuisitivSkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkuisitivSkins/gifts).



> Hey my loves, hey Dylan :D
> 
> Here it is, the first Liv/Miles/Scar-Fic that is seeing the light of day from me. I just love how quickly you guys have seemingly taken to this ship over on Tumblr <3 This one is based on a prompt from Dylan/Inkuisitivskins (check out her fics while you're at it, they are incredible!), who was the first to send something Liv/Miles/Scar in. Thank you so much my love :,D <3<3<3
> 
> Also, a huge shoutout to NorthernWall (read her fics too btw, absolutely amazing), because we togehter somehow thought of shipping these three. Love you deary :D <3<3<3<3
> 
> This one will be a collection of one-shots focusing on these three, a continuing story of how they got together will follow as soon as I can write it :D As this is my first time with these three, and my wording is bumpy at best at the moment, I still hope that you find enjoyment in this little fic, I would be very happy if you dropped me a note either here or on tumblr.
> 
> Thank you and happy reading! <3

"You found something?"

Miles aware that he'd asked this question out of courtesy and little else, Scar's face one of its fifty variations of brooding, telling him clearly that he'd had no such luck. Still, the man answered.

"Caught two camel-spiders, but nothing else. You?"

Shook his head, trying to keep his stomach from churning at the sight of the insects in Scar's hands. They were big, coloured so they would vanish in the sand, legs spindly and sticking out. Miles knew their taste to be as hideous as their looks.

"Did she find something?"

Olivier had wandered off to find food too, hood draped over her head and hands hidden in her long sleeves. Her skin already tinged red though, burnt on the surface, the sun having been unrelenting the whole duration of their trip. Not even a few days holed up in the tent had been able to change that.

Miles forced to shake his head again, worrying not due at this time.

"Liv's not back yet."

There was only a second of worry on Scar's face, nose crunching up and eyelids fluttering. Gone in the blink of an eye.

"Then we'll have to wait. We could lure some more animals with the spiders, they tend to come out when there's a spider dead. Like carrion."

Walked together back to their tent with Scar, staying on the spider-free side.

They'd volunteered to travel to the next planned camp, set up the well and mark where what was to go. Scar and he that had initially meant, them being the link between Mustang and the people returning to their homeland. That Olivier had been there, visiting them both, accompanying them, was all because of her own stubbornness, really.

_"I have four weeks’ vacation-time, I want to spend these with you!"_

_"We're going to ride through the desert and sweat in the heat."_

_"Sounds like an adventure, count me in!"_

Miles had of course noticed how forceful she was, unwilling to let go of their planned time together. Was too, as was Scar when he'd heard. They'd all been grabbed by a bad mood after all, the possibility that they wouldn't see Olivier for a long time because of their trip very real.

As such, it was a good thing that Mustang had been unable to stop her when she'd declared that she'd ride out with them.

"Think she'll find something?"

To enjoy silence with Scar was always nice, a treat usually, but after cherishing it for months hearing his words was equally as soothing.

The big man, a handspan taller than Miles was and broader in his shoulders, shrugged. Thought for a moment, face as almost always close to unreadable. Mouth a thin line, eyes squinted against the sun, though there was a hint of a smile.

"Olivier could find trees admits an ocean of sand."

The Ishvalan proverb said with ease, warmth.

Miles and Olivier had been one for so long now, that Miles found it difficult to remember the time before. But in the spring two years ago, music urging them on and the wine making them reckless. Gazes burrowing under skin for weeks on end, not directed at him, or her, but _them_. With featherlight touches and forceful kisses, they'd become three.

Still a them, though.

"So, what would she have to find that goes well with camel-spiders?"

Words not coming like molasses anymore, melting under the heat.

“You hate their meat, don't you?"

Miles shrugged, smiling.

"Do you _like_ it?"

Scar’s answer quick.

"No."

Laughter shared at that, Miles' easy, light, Scar's gruff still, though a sound he loved. A rare one, too.

"Nobody likes camel-spider, not their meat at least. they only taste well with certain vegetables. Always the kind we had to import, though."

Both nearing their makeshift camp, their tent pitched in the valley of the dunes.

On their way to the remains of Deyladeh, back then in the middle of a thriving oasis, a sandstorm had surprised them. Trapped them too, three days spend inside of their tents claustrophobic cloth-walls. It had been a test of endurance for them, especially when their supplies started to run low and privacy became almost non-existent. All of them hesitant to touch the last of the emergency-rations, packed for the case that after four days’ time the convoy would not catch up to them.

Their plan to find something to eat on their way, all of them unwilling to turn back to where they came from, foiled by the constant sound of wind and coarse sand blown against their tent. Today it had cleared up, just hours ago, and quickly they'd gone on the search for supplies.

Each in another direction, breathing in the alone-time.

"Now, don't tell me that you ate camel-spider regularly?"

Scar shaking his head, hair grown to considerable lengths shaking in tune.

"Nobody did, except for a few of the elderly claiming it to be delicious. Camel-Spiders usually don't bother humans and aren't poisonous either. They just like the warmth we provide at night and look unnerving."

Miles bumping his shoulder into the taller man's side, voice laced with mischief.

"Wouldn't have thought that you could find anything unnerving?"

The answer he got was deadpan.

"I've just spent three days in a small tent with you and Olivier. And her cuddling up to me in her sleep was far from the most disturbing things I've seen _you_ do."

Sometimes it scared Miles, how close in humour Olivier and Scar were, even if she let it show much more.

The beige colour of their tent now coming into view, the sand around it shovelled away already and their plan to set out tomorrow made.

On his way to look if Scar was already coming back, the tent and space around it had still been devoid of Olivier, but now she was there, her presence seen _and_ felt.

Sitting in front of it, close to their remade firepit, she was peeling something. Her knife-work so quick that Miles did not see any details. Scar though had seemingly little trouble identifying what she held in her hands.

"Where did you find a potato? Where? Look where we are? There shouldn't be a potato here!"

The sheer confusion in Scar's voice, pitch changing with almost every word, was startling.

Olivier just kept on peeling, shooting them a look, scanning them intently, voice heavy with dread.

"You'll make me eat spider, won't you?"

Miles opened his mouth to answer, simply happy that they'd have something to eat together with the usually bitter spider-meat, but Scar's clear exasperation cut into that.

"How did you find potatoes here? A potato growing in Ishval is _impossible_!"

Olivier tended to gesticulate when talking with them in private, usually a sign that she let go of the stern masked she maintained in front of others. Yet, he couldn't deny that it was kind of threatening when she did it with a knife in her hand.

"The oasis must've spread or something, an hour from here there's plenty of greenery. And there are growing potatoes, so sit down and help me peel them!"

And Scar did just that, though only slowly, still looking weirded out. His stern mask smashed to pieces. Something that wasn’t an absolute rarity, the man usually as open as he got around them, yet it was strange that he’d lose his cool over potatoes.

Miles taking a seat though, involuntarily having to think about his time as a warrant officer and kitchen duty. He almost matched Olivier's speed.

"Why do these potatoes freak you out so much?"

Her voice calmer now, quieter too. Serious. Scar did not have to think for long, though still used the time to compose himself as much as he seemingly felt the need to.

"Potatoes were rich-people food. They did not grow here, had to be imported from elsewhere. And it was a common saying that once potatoes grew in Ishval, it's people were truly the richest of the world."

And just like that, before Olivier grabbed another potato to peel, she leaned forward. One hand on the ground to steady herself, her lips on Scar's and both of their eyes closed. All stiffness vanishing from his form, while Miles felt a smile split his face.

And then she just sat down again, Scar staring off into space with a half-open mouth, while Olivier started to peel the next potatoes. Muttering under her breath.

"Idiot. Such a fuss over fucking potatoes but wanting to make me eat a _spider_."

Silence holding for a while, Miles thinking about how they truly were the richest people in the world here in Ishval. They'd eat potato, three thirds of a whole, more than enough love between them to make it possible. Eyed Scar, that had escaped the stupor he'd been after Olivier's reassuring kiss, peeling the last of their food with careful movements.

A question seemingly coming to the scarred man's mind, watching the swift movements of Olivier's hands.

"Why can you do this so fast?"

Olivier raising her eyebrows, a smile pulling at one corner of her mouth.

"Let's just say that I was a very bad-mouthed soldier."

Their laughter shared, honest, clearing the air.

Scar set to "gutting" the spider, which went hand in hand with a lot of cracking noises that send a shiver down Miles spine. Olivier looked like she was about to be sick and at one point even going so far as to hide her face in her hands.

Miles voice easy, even if the sight of the spider was an unpleasant one.

"You've gutted bears and the likes before, but can't stand a spider?"

Scar's curious look on her too, though he did not pause in his work. Miles still wished he would.

"There are no spiders up at Briggs. And they wouldn't look that fucked up either if there were!"

Without looking at them these words were delivered, which made Scar thankfully halt in his task now, asking earnestly.

"Are you afraid of spiders Olivier?"

She scoffed, what Miles expected.

" _Tch_ , I'm not afraid of anything!"

And this was that then for a while, even though Miles could see that Scar of course did not believe her. Instead of hounding the issue though, they set to cook what they had, the pan and the fire underneath adding a nice warmth to the air, now that the sun was going down and the temperatures together with it.

Their work done in unison, close to silent, Scar becoming part of their relationship not having changed their ways of communicating lots, instead only broadening it.

"Here."

Miles being handed the little metal-bowl, Scar having filled it for him. Saw that Olivier was handed one too, a look of dread on her face still. Scar digging in without hesitation though, making noises of content.

"We only rarely had potatoes when I was a child, but I've always loved them. And it goes well with the spider too!"

Something Miles would second, the bitter taste much more aimable with the flavour of the potatoes.

"It tastes better with it, you're right. We had potatoes fairly often though, but I've grown up in a farming village close to central, so we've had them so often that you tended to lose your taste for it."

All smiling at the others stories, though Miles did not miss that Olivier was picking at her food and neither did Scar.

"How do I identify which is spider and what is potato? It all looks the same to me."

Scar swallowing his current bite, speaking with a shrug.

"I did not put any spider in your bowl for now, left it in the pan. I thought you'd maybe like to try it first."

Olivier’s face going through several emotions, spanning from anger to confusion. She seemingly settled on a dignified blush.

"Thank you."

Miles felt the warmth inside of him spread.

Scar had learned quickly that Olivier and Miles were full of quirks, behaviours shaped by a lifetime of having to adjust. Learned of their pasts, forged a future together with them, was thoughtful of them as much as they were of him.

Olivier piercing one of the spider-pieces in the pan, now with little hesitation taking a bite.

"It's not worse than smoked elk."

Eating more of it then, with no hesitation and them marvelling at her bravery.

Even if that did not keep her from knee-jerking Scar in the gut after night fell and they were going to bed, for having his fingers brush over her leg like a spider would.

Miles getting her heel for his laughter.


	2. Tension - NSFW-ish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A before.

"He is jealous."

Her words accompanied by a nip at his ear, teeth as sharp as her words.

"Of me? You?"

Laughter ringing in his ears, shaking his body, their proximity too close not to.

"He doesn't know."

Said it like it was the greatest and most misunderstood joke on this planet, her breath hot against his neck, yet not as hot as her lips.

Miles not ceasing to face the scarred man from their vantage point on the roof, though his hands worked around Olivier further, moulded against him as she was. Did not laugh, spoke thoughtfully instead.

"You think he's unsure which way he swings?"

Her pale hand had wandered under his kameez, though she behaved herself, did only go so far with the masses of people moving below, dancing to the thundering rhythm of the ishvalan spring festival.

"I don't think he ever thought about it at all."

Turned, quickly, to capture her lips with his. Hot and moist, the bitter tinge of coffee still there, but paling against the bite of the heavy wine, the honeyed sweets. Olivier's smile wide, toothy, _dangerous._

Though she pushed herself up some more, the cushions beneath them comfy and inviting but her curiosity winning out. Her desire to see the man for herself, whom Miles had observed during almost the whole festival. How his gaze had not strayed from them, expression stony.

"Don't be mean Olivier."

Yet, Miles was looking too, a pair of red eyes locking with her deep blues over the plaza, crossing almost a hundred metres. Felt the intensity, the longing, though Miles was not sure for what.

"I'm not mean Miles...", kissed his lips from the side, sharp teeth stinging his jaws and a tongue immediately flicking out to soothe the bite, "I just want him to think about it."

Miles chuckled, this time catching her lips before she could bite again. Voice easy, warm.

"You'd share me?"

Fingernails still dancing over his stomach, kameez hiding it from the view of surely exasperated mothers, scratching.

"Cocky today, aren't we? And you know that it wouldn’t be as much like sharing, but him becoming a part of our whole, right?”

Her thoughts enticing alright, having crossed Miles mind too at more than one point. Made it clear with a kiss to her jawline, distant eyes set on them.

“What if he doesn’t want that, only wants to look what’s beneath our clothes and turn the night into a feast?”

His nips reciprocated, though the stinging she brought into them only furthered his excitement.

“If I remember right, and I tend to, _you_ talked to me about his visual appeal more than once Miles,” a bite to his earlobe changing her words to a momentary silence, “and even if it were a one-time thing, that wouldn’t be our first either, now would it?”

For a moment the caresses of their lips ceasing, given up on in favour of eyes locking and thoughts spoken about openly.

“Liv, I need to keep working with him. You too.”

No hostility in Miles tone, his hand still caressing her lower back as low as possible, while blunt fingernails scratched over his abs.

“I do not take him for someone that would be interested in a one-time thing either, though the attraction I can understand,” winked at him, lips finding Miles in a sloppy kiss, sending a new wave of heat through him, “yet, if you don’t want to, would rather stay with just the fantasy, then I would never be upset with you.”

Kissed him again, words so unusually open for her, if as honest, as loving, as he was used to. The notion, reminder rather, that she would never do such a thing without him, without his blessing, gratifying.

His answer as such honest, forcing Olivier’s breath to catch.

“I've told you what I think, how his image won't leave my mind, the thought of you and him,” sighed, the sound getting his point across fairly well, “…it is not just a pleasant thought, you understand? But this could be so much more, for all of us.”

Her body moulding back into his, the upright position of conversation forsaken in favour of their half-sitting, half-lying position on the cushions, Miles setting his hands to wander more daringly now.

“And would that be alright with you?”

Her breath back against his neck, hot, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

Their bodies pressed together so tightly, effective at fending off the chill of the proceeding night. The sound of the drums getting louder, drowning out most of the buzz from below. Miles still feeling eyes on him, a certain pair among them, though did not search for now, instead cupped her face with his hand, forcing her to look into his eyes before pressing yet another kiss to her lips, deep and long and full of promise.

Whispered against her lips, noses touching, her eyes like he imagined the ocean to look.

“Yes, yes I think so. You, him and me, that doesn’t feel wrong when I think about it.”

Another kiss sealing the chance they were both so willing to take, revelling in the other some more, kissing and subtly touching. Both of their eyes finding his more than once as the hours progressed. Wandering down when the festivities started to reach their peak, joined those dancing after a few more sips of heavy wine emboldening them.

The atmosphere loaded, the spring festivals use in ancient times, its meaning, having well translated into these more modern times.

As such, Miles pulled her to him tight, moved with the crowd, with her, flowing, easy clothes concealing how close they were. Let the rhythm thumb in his ears, let her eyes entice him, the easily worn smile on her face.

Searched, Olivier too, for Scar, for a pair of red eyes that had been glued to them for the whole duration of the festivities up until now. Had wanted to find out if he’d tasted some of the wine, if he’d be willing to talk, not seeming like the type to dance. But as they couldn’t find him, not able to take his hesitation from Scar by sheer force of will after all, they got lost in their dance, the eyes of the other, the smells assaulting their senses.

And when the time came, their heat unbearable for him, the softest tug on Olivier’s hand made clear Miles’ intentions.

Willingly she let herself be abducted by him, the whole point of this festivity. You were to “steal” your love, to show that you are interested with a dance, with smiles and talk and honesty. And if you took their hand then, if they followed, you decided together how far you would go.

Held her hand tightly, felt her body press into his while they walked through the crowds, passing those standing guard on the edge. Looking into the faces of those stolen, attentive when it came to spot those whose faces did not speak of true willingness to follow, of the stealing being taken to literally by some.

Passed through without a hitch, with a smile from some, well known as they were.

“Follow me!”

Her voice seeming loud to him in the clearly less full streets, the music distant already, the night so much darker. Olivier’s small hand taking the lead, with a grip much stronger than the sight of her would suggest. Leading them into a dark alley, devoid of windows, Miles knowing instinctively her intention.

“Liv, this is too public, if we get caught,” interrupting his own sentence when pressing her back against the wall, his lips to hers in a hot and open-mouthed kiss, “we’ll be in trouble. And even if we won’t be, I don’t know about the audience.”

Had already hiked her floor-length skirt up, hand in the bend of her knee, Miles other hand on her behind. Was kissing her voluptuously, almost religiously, still feeling the prick of someone watching them.

Olivier’s body moving against his, moving her leg to hook behind his back, even though he did not yield his hand yet, was still afflicted with being unsure. Her words pressed out between kisses to his jugular, bites accentuating what she was saying.

“You know who’s watching.”

The truth sending a jolt of electricity up his spine, heightening his arousal somehow, though Miles still felt a tad unwilling to be so in the open today, to love her in an alleyway like this, where anybody else could just walk in.

“I want you on our bed,” nipped her jaw, knowing that it was her weak point, her vice-like grip on him softening just a little, “hair sprawled around you, cold air having goosebumps rise along your skin. I want to see you in the light of our own home, where I can make you scream for hours if I want to.”

Olivier’s moan at his words making his blood boil, especially when it was joined by another, supressed and hard to hear, yet there. Olivier’s body yielding when he pulled softly on her, the alley left and their walk through the city hurried.

Steps behind them, even, yet keeping up with their pace.

Miles knew Scar to be behind them, somehow always ending up near to them these past few weeks of Olivier’s stay. He was not following them in a creepy kind of way, instead seemed to observe them a lot, the places they visited favoured by him too. More than once they’d welcomed him on their table too, whether eating at home or elsewhere, Scar more often than not refusing.

Olivier’s hand sliding down his back, pinching his ass and making him jump. Her voice laced with humour, bite and thinly veiled impatience.

“Stop thinking! You always have to overthink everything, that’s where you and he are alike!”

Reciprocated with a pinch of his own, the street in front of them empty and his hand easily able to pinch her through the flimsy fabric of her dress.

“Would you just drag him in with us, lips to his neck and fingers around his cock then?”

Deserved the slight shove he got, the worst about it that their bodies had to separate for a moment for her to put force into it.

“Please, you know I would talk at least a little first. But your thinking, your what if’s…”, sighed, all playfulness seemingly forgotten for a moment, “…you never do anything, just long and long and _long_. Where’s the Miles that just was honest with me, held me, told me the truth?”

There was truth to her words, the memories of him not able to hold out anymore flashing through his mind, her own perceived inability to love and to be loved. He’d talked to her so many times before taking action, had tried to convince her, all for nought.

Instead when he’d kissed her, just took her in his arms the second he was officially not part of her chain of command anymore, only then she’d been able to believe.

“How come you’re always right?”

Her voice a giggle in the night, testament to the heaviness of the wine, the breathlessness and ease in their hearts.

“I’m not and you know that.”

Kissed her, stumbling up two small stairs, the glazed bricks of their home reached. Did not have to fumble with keys, not needed as they were, pulling her inside without a hitch. The hallways dark, his lips on her neck not a second later, while he felt his ass being grabbed again.

“He was behind us…,” her voice breathy, as it felt almost impossible for his lips to part from her body, his hands already exploring, “…shall we invite him in?”

Olivier’s question accentuated with a moan, his hands pinching her breasts through the fabric of her dress, already working hard on getting rid of it. Pausing only for a moment to answer, mind made up.

“In the dark, the first step must be his. Else, we should talk to him tomorrow,” hesitated for a moment, their eyes finding the others even in the dark, gazes welded together, “or should we…”

His love having no chance to answer, as a knock sounded on their door. A smile on her face though, wide and toothy, danger gone. Instead there was pride in her voice.

“He’s a brave one.”

Miles kissed her once more, though they parted as much as was needed to reach the door, not willing to let Scar wait any longer than he had to. Though one truth came to Miles mind, one he head to say aloud, lest he forgot it.

“We wouldn’t have it any other way, huh?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. The goal of it is to make commenting easier for readers and to increase the feedback writers get. As such, I invite you to leave:
> 
>  _Short comments_  
>  _Long comments_  
>  _Questions_  
>  _Constructive criticism_  
>  _Reader-reader interaction_  
>  _extra-kudos as <3_  
>    
> I cherish all comments, weather they be long or short, even only one word makes me squeal with happiness after all. And if you’re seeing this fic ten years after I published it, don’t worry: Old or new, I’ll still love what you left me to read <3 I answer to all comment btw, though it sometimes takes me a day or two. Should you not want me to answer, just write _whisper_ in front of it.  
>  I thank you for reading this fic of mine through to the end. As I said, I appreciate all comments and kudos and should you want to get into direct contact with me [this is my tumblr](http://illidria.tumblr.com/). There you can get into discussions with me, or even send in wish-fics.  
> Happy reading and thank you <3


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